A Wand to the Wise
by Knockturn Kelsey
Summary: Hermione Granger works for the Ministry of Magic after the wizarding war. Her newest assignment is in nineteenth century London to prevent a future world war, and she is partnered to work along with the local detective, Sherlock Holmes.
1. Chapter 1

***I don't own any of the ideas, plots or characters in this story. I do not own Harry Potter or Sherlock Holmes***

Hermione twiddled her fingers impatiently around the handle of her briefcase. She felt quite claustrophobic in the quaint elevator that consisted of at least four or five other people.

"So, what mission do you think Kingsley will assign you to next?" Harry leaned over, whispering to her. They had just left from the cafeteria on their lunch breaks.

"Who knows. That last one in Moscow caused quite the controversy, mutant drabbles and all." She commented.

The doors opened as an automated message told them which floor they were on. The two friends stepped out and into the atrium, among a much larger group of people. Even though the war ended three years before, the Ministry was still trying to get back up on it's feet. Kingsley, being the newly appointed Minister.

Harry and Hermione started working for the Ministry as soon as they got the chance, not needing any sort of interview or applications considering their two of them had a hard time making new friends, thanks to their new celebrity identities. They became total heroes, stars. Hermione would occasionally have random strangers ask for autographs and would take pictures of her. One so much as to even follow her home.

Ron on the other hand, was planning to get married to Lavender Brown, with whom he had already had two kids. He was constantly in between jobs and occasionally asked for financial assistance from Harry and Hermione, some of the richest people at the time for their participation in the war and high pay.

Harry had fulfilled his dream to become an auror, constantly on the chase for escaped Death Eaters and other convicts. Hermione became a secret agent working under the ministry, using her sharp knowledge, battle tactics and quick wit.

"I guess I can walk with you up to Kingsley's office, it's along the way to the Auror's Department." Harry told her.

"Okay, that'd be great. Oh, I've been meaning to ask, how did that big chase go last weekend? I read about it in the daily prophet."

"Very well, actually. I managed to catch all except one, and he ended up being caught a day or so later anyway."

"That's great Harry, but here's my stop." She stopped by the corridor that lead up to Kingsley's office.

"I'll see you around then." He waved, turning and walking away to his destination.

"Say hello to Ginny for me!" She called out, shaking her head with a smile before continuing up the steps, stopping at the Minister's office. It was one big sitting room, wasted space with only a few chairs and two secretaries.

Hermione approached one of the secretaries, "Hermione Granger to see Kingsley Shacklebolt, agent 136582."

The woman typed something into her computer, "Identification card, please."

Hermione sighed and dug the card out of her purse pocket and showed it to the lady at the desk. The secretary picked up the phone, pushed a few numbers, "Miss Granger is here to see you," She looked up at Hermione, "Ahuh." The lady nodded for Hermione to go into his office.

Hermione knocked on the door and waited for a response before entering.

"Ah, Hermione, I wondered when you'd be arriving, terribly late you know." He tapped his watch.

"Sir, I'm ten minutes early." She smiled as he double checked his watch,"Maybe you should get that looked at."

"So it seems. Anyway, how've you been?" He leaned back in his chair as if talking to an old friend.

"I've been better." She sighed, setting her briefcase on the ground and taking a seat in one of the swivel chairs.

"How so? What's troubling you?" His eyebrows crossed.

"Well, you remember Ron. He's a good guy and all, but sometimes-sometimes I can't help but worry, you know?" She explained, "He and Lavender are planning a wedding when they are barely stable enough to pay utility bills. I feel he's been, well, taking advantage of Harry and I's generosity lately and wonder if he would be able to make it on his own."

"I'm sure with time, he will come to realize the diversity of his situation, and reach an epiphany. We all do at some point, some sooner than others." He mumbled, pulling out a muggle bag of pretzels and taking one. He held out the back to her, offering one but she just smiled and waved her hand dismissively.

"So, I have a new mission for you."

"Yes?" She asked, watching him as he dug through a file cabinet and returned with a file.

"A few profits have uncovered a possible apocalypse, due to upcoming chemical warfare." He set the file down on the desk, sliding it over to her.

She lifted it up off the desk, looking at him once more before opening it and studying it's contents.

"We want you to go back in time, and put a stop to the influential sciences that lead to today's chemical warfare. Does this make sense?"

She nodded quickly, not tearing away from the pages with intriguing information.

"If you don't mind, we will be pairing you with the local detective, Sherlock Holmes. He's very skilled in this area, knows the people and the town, and has collected a very successful reputation." He explained.

"You mean to say, he is of that time?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Late eighteen hundreds, I can't remember from the top of my head exactly." He took another pretzel from the bag, waving it around as he spoke.

"When will I be leaving?" She asked.

"Tomorrow morning, it doesn't matter when exactly. If you find out any further information or need more, feel free to just apparate back and forth. I just ask that you keep as low of a profile amongst muggles as you can, please."

"I will." She said with a smile, grabbing her briefcase and putting the file folder inside. Hermione stood and waved before leaving.

**[AUTHORS NOTE]: My first published fanfic, woohoo! So I know it's a one-shot, but- If I get enough requests I can continue the story. Also, I already have a plot in mind, as you read, so it shouldn't take very long at all for me to update. I appreciate the read! (another chapter coming soon)**


	2. Chapter 2

After arriving, Hermione opened her eyes to find herself in the same location, but it looked completely unrecognizable. What were once tall glass buildings were replaced by old bricked up factories with advertisements painted on the sides.

Hermione had to walk to the sidewalk, or what she figured was a sidewalk, to avoid out an oncoming carriage. She turned around, hearing bells being rung, workers scurrying about the docks that opened up to a sea port. Copper colored steam boats lined the center of the canal, an occasional honk could be heard from their communicating.

"Oh. Yeah, back to business." She shook her head, reminding herself to stay on task. She reached inside her beaded bag, accio-ing the piece of paper with the address on it.

"221 B Baker Street... Hmm... Doesn't sound familiar." She figured she'd look for a respectable looking business, maybe a grocery store, and ask them for a directory. She placed the piece of paper in the top of her dress and her wand in her sleeve, so they'd easily be accessible if she found necessary.

Hermione walked throughout London, constantly walking into a dead end alleyway or somehow ending up in a church by mistake. As it grew darker, she noticed the respectable townsfolk disperse only to be replaced by grimy harassing drunkards.

The street lamps flickered in the wind, shutters banged against their brick houses and horses trotted along the cobblestone streets. She enjoyed that she was able to look up and see the stars in the sky, not being distracted from the tall buildings with lights boring out of every window.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she felt herself run strait into the familiarity of a person. "Oh, excuse me, madam." The person turned around, tipping his hat. He looked very respectable, maybe the first she'd seen all day.

"My most humble apologies, sir." She tried to sound as formal as possible.

"Oh there is no need, ma'am. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Watson. Is there anything I can assist you with?" He asked.

"Um, actually, of you don't mind pointing me to a..." She tried to remember the address, "221 B Baker Street?"

"Baker Street? 221 B? I just happen to be staying with it's resident. If you don't mind me being so bold, what is your business there?" He asked, leaning on what she presumed to be a cane.

"I'm looking for a Detective Holmes, I was put on an assignment here in London need his assistance." She told him honestly.

"Oh, very well then. May I escort you?" He held out his arm, which she took, being only somewhat skeptical.

"What is this 'assignment' of yours? I can't help being curious." He told her.

"Well," She wasn't sure how to put it,"There's someone locally creating hazardous chemicals of which they plan to use in a negative way. For example, creating weaponry of technology well beyond our years."

"How very interesting, are you a local investigator, or were you sent here from afar?" He asked, digging into his pockets and tossing a coin to a beggar on the street.

"Local, but I'm working for the government. It's quite secretive really, so I can trust you won't tell anyone?"

"Of course. Oh, here we are, 221 Baker Street." The doctor motioned for her to proceed up the steps to the front door. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, being met by a very enthusiastic English Bulldog.

"Don't mind him, he's quite friendly really." The doctor told her as the dog continued barking.

A person who Hermione assumed was a maid approached them.

"This is Hermione, she's here to see Holmes."

"Oh, welcome, madam. You may wait upstairs in his study, if you like." The woman bowed.

"That'd be lovely, if you wouldn't mind showing me the way?" Hermione asked, not wanting to appear rude.

The woman nodded before going upstairs. "Thank you Doctor Watson." Hermione told him before going up the stairs.

The woman lead her upstairs and to the left, opening the door to reveal a big, but rather messy room. It had velvet red wallpaper, a fireplace in the front and center, bookcases covering the rest of the walls and a large window to her left.

Hermione sat in one of the chairs by the window, peaking at the newspaper on the table beside her. 'Lord Blackwood Hanged for Practice of Dark Magic', 'Lord Blackwood returns from the grave', 'Sherlock Holmes saves Parliament from the ghost of Lord Blackwood.'

She stopped when her eyes drifted to the bookshelf. She had to admit, he had a bigger library than she even did back at her apartment. Her eyes traced over the binding of the books, reading the titles of each one. Most of them were of scientific research, but every once in a few books she would recognize something a bit more casual. After a few minutes of twiddling her thumbs and entertaining herself with small means of magic, she perked up the courage to read one of the books that seemed to tauntingly call her name.

She picked the book up off the shelf that was laying on it's side and took it back to her chair. She crossed one leg over the other and read over the pages quickly, just from experience of reading.

She paused and looked up from the book upon hearing the front door open and shut, followed by conversation between the doctor and an unfamiliar voice. She looked back down to her book, listening as the unfamiliar voice carried upstairs and toward the room she was in.

She pretended to pay no attention, but watched out of her perriferal vision as an unfamiliar person walked into the room, not noticing her. He thew his coat on a chair and mumbled something to himself. It took a while before he finally recognized her existence, stopping dead in his tracks and looking at her quizzically. She still didn't look up, as if he weren't even there.

"Ya know, if there's a certain book you wanted to read, there's a wide selection of books at the library on sixth street." He said, pointing with his thumb behind him towards where she assumed was said location.

"I didn't come here all they way from the year two thousand twelve just to read your books, mister Holmes." She said casually, setting the book down on top of the newspapers.

His eyebrows raised in question, "Two thousand twelve?"


	3. Chapter 3

Detective Holmes pulled up a chair along side her, eyes gleaming with interest. "Please, do explain."

"Well," She began rummaging through her briefcase, "I have this. It should answer all of your questions. And if not, I could probably figure out the rest." She retrieved the file, holding it out to him. He took it with one hand, a pipe in his other.

Mr. Holmes sat back in his chair, reading through the detailed information. She eyed him thoughtfully, trying to understand his odd appearance.

After a moment, he spoke. "Hermione Jane Granger? You look more like a Lucille." He commented, causing her to roll her eyes.

"So," He began, closing the vanilla colored folder, "You've been sent here to investigate a series of chemical warfare testing?"

"To put an end to the chemical testing." She corrected.

He opened the folder back up again, reading aloud, "Ah, I see. Leading up to the- yes. Okay. How long were you planning on staying?" he asked, a small flirtatious grin hinting in the corner of his mouth.

"However long it takes." She said, not succumbing to his facial expressions.

"Ahuh." He bit the pipe in his mouth, folding the file with both hands before handing it back to her.

"And you are, as you claim, from the year two thousand twelve? How does that happen?" He asked, trying his best to contain his sudden curiosity.

"Mister Holmes?" The woman called Mrs. Hudson entered the room. Causing his interest to deflate.

"Yes?" He asked, words muffled as he bent around the chair back to see her, pipe still clutched in his teeth.

"Dinner is downstairs." She said, closing the door as the dog scurried into the room.

"Thank you!" He yelled back to her, turning his attention to Hermione again. "Have you eaten?"

"No, I haven't." She said, dusting off her dress.

"He stood up, holding out his hand to her, which she took. "Have you meet my brilliant colleague Doctor Watson, yet?"

"Yes, actually, he was the one who assisted me here." She said, walking ahead of him into the hallway before turning to face him, "Very kind."

"Why, thank you." She heard behind her Doctor Watson, who's sudden appearance had her spinning in place from shock. He wore a graceful smile. "After you, Milady." he motioned down the steps with his hand, which she happily obeyed.

She missed Doctor Watson elbow Mr. Holmes at the top of the stairs, a whispering argument taking place as she walked down the steps. After a moment, she realized they weren't following her, and she turned. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine." The doctor said sternly, a grin appearing on the detective's face.

Mr. Holmes walked down the steps, opening and closing his hand as he mimicked Mr. Watson's voice. "Yes, yes, everything's fine."

He walked past her and into the dining room, where a bouquet of a meal waited on a long table. Hermione entered the room, several oil lamps and such keeping the rectangular room visible. On the far wall was a fireplace, while the rest of the walls were a velvet red and had a gold chair railing.

Detective Holmes pulled out a chair for her, motioning with his hand to sit. The doctor sat across from her, while Mr. Holmes sat at the head of the table, even though it seemed so far away.

"So, what grand adventure is in the works this time?" The doctor asked, picking up his fork.

Detective Holmes set down his drink, swallowing noisily before answering. "Chemical warfare."

"Testing. Chemical testing." Hermione corrected him again.

"Yes, that." He pointed to her.

"Mhm. And what is the purpose of this chemical testing you speak of?" The doctor inquired before taking a rather large bite of mashed potatoes.

"This chemical testing will prove most likely to global destruction in the future. It's estimated just under a hundred years from now."

"How fascinating." Doctor Watson said, placing his elbows on the table and resting his head on his knuckles in interest. "What is Holmes' job?"

Holmes spoke up, "I am to save the day. As usual." He said arrogantly, taking a sip of wine.

"My apologies, miss Granger," The Doctor glared at the detective disapprovingly. "He's not quite used to being the one helping."

"I'm sorry, but since when did I say that? I never said anything." Mr. Holmes defended.

"You didn't need to-" The doctor was cut off.

"Ah-ah-ah. No, I've never accomplished anything of the sort that would engrave something of such arrogance into your supercilious mind." The detective said, waving his fork at the man.

"Rude." Doctor Watson mumbled, turning his attention back down to his plate, missing the detective stick his tongue out at him.

"Have you heard anything about chemical testing in the area? I mean, I wasn't provided too clear of instructions as to where we begin." Hermione explained, wiping the corner of her mouth with a navy blue napkin before returning it to her lap. "Or, perhaps you could reference me to a science professor?"

"That sounds like a brilliant idea, don't you agree, Holmes?" Doctor Watson asked pointedly. "You know, Miss Granger, as a doctor I am rather acquainted with that crowd. Frankly, Detective Holmes isn't well acquainted with anyone."

"Then what does that make you?" Holmes spoke up, his eyebrows raised as he took another sip of wine.

Doctor Watson cleared his throat, dismissing Holmes' comment and returned his attention to his pork. Hermione stayed silent for a moment, not having much to say. Suddenly, she heard a snort from beneath the table, and a wet object bump her hand. Looking down, her gaze was met by the wrinkle faced English Bulldog.

"Gladstone. Away." Watson snapped his fingers to the side, whistling for the dog's attention. Gladstone's big brown eyes drifted to his owners, before returning to to Hermione and her food.

"Gladstone..." Dr. Watson drawled out his words threateningly. "I apologize for this, miss Granger."

The dog visibly sighed, pushing away from Hermione's lap and trotting away.

"So, about this whole 'Chemical testing' endeavor, when do you plan to begin?" The doctor continued.

"As soon as possible. Perhaps tomorrow morning? I planned on visiting your public library for research." Hermione explained, taking another sip of wine.

"The one on sixth street?" Holmes spoke up.

The doctor ignored his comment yet again. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow, if it would be okay, I would love to accompany you."

"To the one on sixth street?" Holmes continued.

"I would love that." Hermione smiled, glancing back down to the dog that was now curled up on a pillow in the corner.

"I like the one on sixth street." Holmes mumbled through his chewing.

"Miss Granger?" Mrs. Hudson called from the doorway.

"Please, just call me Hermione." Hermione smiled.

"Well, Hermione, I have your room prepared." Mrs. Hudson spoke hesitantly. "The bathrobe is laid out on the bed."

"Thank you." Hermione nodded in gratification.

Mrs. Hudson nodded once, turning, and leaving the dining room as quickly as she came.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione woke up lying on her side, facing the curtained window. She sat up upon hearing a snore, and spotting the English bulldog sleeping beside her.

She laid back down heavily, turning her head and screaming upon noticing a magnified pair of eyes on the edge of the bed.

"SHHHHHH." Holmes placed his fingers to his lips, an interesting magnifying glass-type invention worn over his eyes, a pair of tweezers in his hand. "Don't move..."

She stayed still, her eyes following the tweezers as they neared her pillow. He quickly pinched the tweezers, retracting his hand and examining the seemingly microscopic beetle.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, sitting up as he retrieved a small jar, placing the small creature inside.

"Sphaeriusidae microsporus." He spoke, holding up the jar to Hermione's view, his face becoming distorted in the glass. "Very rare."

"And more importantly, why are you in here?" Hermione asked, coming to her senses.

"I came to open the windows, the beetles are attracted to natural lighting." He said, standing up upon Doctor Watson entering the room.

"Holmes, just WHAT are you doing in here?" He put his hands on his hips, exasperated.

"For this." Holmes held up the glass container, tapping on the side with his finger. "But now, I'm leaving. Which should make you happy. For once."

"Now, Holmes..." Watson followed the detective out of the bedroom. "A letter came in for you that might be of assistance to Hermione's case."

Hermione leaped out of the bed at that, bolting into the hallway in her night clothes. "May I see it?"

"I thought you would ask." He said, reaching into the pocket of his vest and retrieving the envelope, waving it to her.

She eagerly accepted it, tearing open the wax seal and extracting the folded parchment. She read aloud. "Detective Holmes, I do realize you are most preoccupied with your ongoing investigations, but there is suspicious activity going on. If you had a moment, I would appreciate it if you would stop by the old soap factory on the north side." Hermione began to mumble the rest under her breath, not aware that the detective was peering over her shoulder as she read. "Signed, Oxford County Commissioner."

"Soap factory? You wouldn't suppose they could be taking advantage of the abandoned materials?" Hermione thought out loud.

"Yes..." Holmes drew out his words in a dramatic manner. "Watson, are you aware of the brand they used to produce?"

"The Generic Oxford, I think it was." The doctor responded. "All of the old soap bars had the letters H.M.R."

"What did it stand for?" Hermione spoke up.

"I don't know, it was soap. I never payed attention." Mr. Holmes shrugged. "I'm amazed at myself."

"Well, save your amazement for later, Detective Holmes. You, Hermione and I are going to the library today." Watson announced, straitening out his collar before making his way down to breakfast.

"On sixth street?" Holmes hollered.

The three passengers swayed in their seats as the black carriage rocked along the cobblestone road of sixth street.

Hermione pulled back the miniature curtains so that she could see beyond the window and out at the grey city.

"Holmes tells me you're from London." Watson spoke up, attempting to start a conversation.

"Yes, I am." Hermione sat back, allowing the curtains to fall and cover the window again.

"Where in London, if you don't mind my asking." Dr. Watson inquired.

"Closer to Liverpool. My parents are dentists there." Hermione explained, her hands twiddling with the frilly decorations of her skirt.

"Ah, that explains it." Holmes interrupted. "Your teeth are so strait it puzzled me."

"Now, that's a rare occasion." Dr. Watson chuckled, placing his hat on his head in preparation to exit the carriage.

The carriage came to a gentle stop in the front of a magnificent marble building. The driver then came around the side of the carriage, opening the door.

Hermione stepped out first, lifting up the skirt of her dress as her shoes clicked against the stone street.

Mr. Holmes held open the large wooden door for Hermione, flashing her a smile as she passed. But Holmes' smile faded as Watson passed by, giving him a pointed look.

"What?" Holmes defended, closing the door behind him as they entered the large windowed hall. Watson only sighed, shaking his head in disappointment as he continued into the large room. Long tables ran the length of the room, unlit lanterns waiting by each chair, a pile of books here and there. The bookcases were magnificently tall, at least fifteen feet high. The ceiling met in the center to what was a colorful dome, a gold chandelier in the center.

Hermione went strait to work, searching for the 'local history' section on the right side of the large room.

The two men merely followed behind her, seeing very well that she knew what she was doing. She marched to the back section, scanning over the labeled spines of the books as she went. Stopping suddenly, she snatched up a book from the shelf, placing it in her arm to read at a later time.

Each time she picked up a book or local newspaper, they each got bigger and bigger. Dr. Watson had to even carried a few due to the surprising weight of a few hardcover books.

"Ah, here we are." Holmes cheered, snapping up a newspaper article so quickly that it got Hermione's concerned attention.

"What? What is it?" Hermione approached him with concern.

Detective Holmes was quick on his feet, catching a book as it stumbled out of her arms. He held up the article. "It's me."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Please, we're here for a purpose. If you will, stay on task." She turned, walking away and setting the books down on one of the long tables.

Dr. Watson gave Holmes a smug look, walking over to accompany Hermione with her findings.

Pulling out a chair, she sat down. A particularly vibrant red book sat at the top of the pile, which Hermione picked up, placing it in her lap and beginning to skim through the pages.

Holmes sat opposite Hermione, picking up a book and holding it up to his face. A History of Local Businesses.

Holmes' hand slowly lowered, his eyes looking just above the book and at Hermione who seemed entirely engulfed in what she was reading.

Her eyes suddenly blinked up, meeting his for a moment before quickly flicking back to the pages of her book. Slowly, her eyes drifted back up to see his hadn't moved. She resisted a smile, her cheeks fading pink in a blush as she forced herself to pay attention to the book.


	5. Chapter 5

"Detective?" Hermione looked up from her book. "Detective Holmes, you should see this." She leaned forward over the mahogany table to the man that she was addressing.

He leaned toward her, his eyebrows raised in interest.

"Look at this," Hermione spoke enthusiastically, pointing at the page with her index finger. "It's the abandoned factory from the letter. Established in eighteen thirty four, the Rimmarson MEDICINE Company stayed in business for fourteen years. The business underwent financial difficulties for unknowledgable circumstances. AND Founded by Harold M. Rimmarson."

"H.M.R." Holmes nodded, understanding.

"So it was medicine, not soap." The doctor mused, wondering why the letter specifically mentioned 'soap'.

"But the letter specifically said soap." Hermione reminded him.

"It's no wonder I couldn't recall the brand. It doesn't exist!" Holmes spoke proudly.

Hermione was too deep in thought to acknowledge his ramblings, her mind deeply concentrated on the new pieces of information. "Now, if I search for some form of a census, perhaps I could figure out some more about him." Hermione stood up, leaving to find what she was looking for.

Holmes sat back in his chair, watching her as she walked away, a soft smile taking over his face. When suddenly a hard force came in contact with his face, an echo sounding. Holmes was taken aback when he saw Watson across from him, book in hand and an unpleasant face.

"Did you just-" Holmes began.

"Stop." Watson said bitterly. "Just stop."

Holmes sat back, glancing to Hermione on the other side of the giant room. He knew very well what the matter was, but he had major difficulty avoiding it. He was growing feelings for Hermione, which would eventually interfere with her case.

"Just... Forget about it." Watson advised. "It won't end well."

Holmes stood from the table, but Doctor Watson confronted him. "Holmes, forget about it."

"Excuse me, Doctor." The detective pushed past his disappointed colleague, making way towards the curly headed girl.

Hermione squatted down, trying to find the appropriate year census. She was too concentrated to notice Mr. Holmes come up behind her. She pulled the book out from the bottom shelf, standing and coming nose to nose with him. She gasped quickly, stumbling back and catching herself on the nearby desk.

"I'm sorry." She said quickly, gathering the book up from the floor. "You just gave me a fright, that's all."

"My apologies, I was- hold on a moment, miss." He looked up to the window strait across, seeing the outlines of two masculine figures outside of the windows, peering in suspiciously.

Holmes walked quickly past Dr. Watson. "Keep an eye on her, Watson." He instructed before picking up his cane from against the table.

Sherlock Holmes strode swiftly through the room, flinging open the double doors and into the clouded over city. All seemed tranquil, undisturbed, as casual people strode past the shops and buildings that lined the road. He turned left down the outside alleyway. Two men stood by the window, watching through the colorful stained glass of the library as Hermione took her books back to the table.

Holmes paused a moment on the side of the building, preparing himself for what was to come.

Step one, determine locations. Man on left: Sixty degrees. Man on right: One hundred seventy two degrees.

Step two, prepare for possible assault. Block blind swing with uppercut to left jaw. Elbow temple of oncoming attacker from right. Person at left, sidekick to ribs in order to disturb the diaphragm function. Strike right hand person using cane into the abdominal section.

Step three, overview: Dislocated jaw, soreness of the neck and back regions, three ribs cracked one broken, pancreatic percolation and diaphragm bruising. Estimated recovery time: four weeks.

Step four: Put into effect.

Holmes revealed himself from his hiding spot, approaching the two men down the dark alleyway. The men turned upon his arrival, the both of them giving each other quick glances before cracking their knuckles in a threatening manner.

The man on the left took the first swing, his attack being blocked by Holmes' arm as the detective's fist came in brutal contact with the man's jaw. The man was knocked off his feet, stumbling backwards into a pile of crates that lay haphazardly in the alleyway. The second man took a running start towards Holmes, his face contorted by a combination strength and anger.

Holmes pushed off his feet when he saw the man dive to trip him, Holmes's leg slamming into the man's side. The man fell in through the stained glass window of the library, clutching his side.

By now, the man's companion was up on his feet, charging towards Holmes with a wicked dagger in his grasp. Holmes grabbed his cane in both hands, striking the man in his gut with the blunt end.

He turned upon hearing yelling and the loud clattering of a carriage approaching them fast. The man who had fallen in through the window was now sprinting out of the library doors towards the mysterious carriage, climbing inside.

The second man stood up behind Holmes, whacking him in the back of his head with a large peice of a broken crate. Clunk!

"Uh oh." Holmes fell forward onto the cold stone road, unconscious.

Hermione stood from her chair upon the stain glass window shattering behind her, a strange man falling through. He stood up, looking confoundedly from left to right before making a run for it towards the front doors. Without further thought, she and the doctor both ran after him in pursuit. They burst through the double doors to see the two men climb into a carriage before it took off with mad speed down the street. Watson glanced to his left just to make sure there weren't any other run aways. There, halfway in- halfway out of the alleyway lied Holmes on his stomach. He had been rendered unconscious.

"Hermione." Dr. Watson called for her to follow, jogging over to his motionless companion. Watson turned him over, examining him for injuries, only to see a rather large bruise forming on the back of his head. "Don't worry, he's just unconscious." Watson reassured her, holding Holmes's wrist with three fingers.

Hermione's eye brows furrowed in curiosity when she spotted a light colored object against the dark stone ground. She lifted it up, seeing it was a small bottle label, the letters H. M. R. finely printed on the front.


End file.
